The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1887-06-09
ON THE SAME ROAD;

ON THE SAME ROAD:
Nature does not shed ner beauties
alone in those parts Of our universe
where tourists and sight-seers most
frequently visit, the world in some Of;
its obscurest places is. filled with beam!
lies that have escaped the eyes of it's
lever.
Who, would have thought of travel
ing in a stage twenty miles from the
nearest railroad station. or footing it
at necessarily slow pace over the
hills and rocks of Cheshire county, to
see how aptly nature had done her
work in this particular place? As for
the inhabitants of the little hamlet
nestled up among the hills, very few
Of them had time to think of such
matters as feastins their eyes on nat
ural loneliness, or even giving a
thought to their surroundings. Their
only object in life seemed to be to Get
up ut five, eat the required num-
Der OF meals, attend to the duties Of
the day, and 60 to bed again when
night came. There was very little
variety in the lives Of these people,
yet they seemed to be we'll enough
contented with their lot, except that
now and then some ambitious spirit
would overleap the bounds and make
ajourney out into the world, to see
what people were doing there; and
those who did become so bold, very
rarely returned to the old way of liv-
ing.
One ofthese discontenteds spirits, who
refused to believe that every thing the
world contained was found up here
among the hills OF Cheshire county,
was young and rather good-lookins
girl. 1t seemed to Janet Gray as il
this dull, monotonous, unvarying
routine would never end, and every
day she longed more and more to
leave it.
1t was on a bright morning earlv
in May, that, returning from an err
rand, she threw herself down by the
brook, to rest and to think. Her
lace was flushed with fast walking,
and with her dark hair and eyes show:
ing to quite an advantage with her
new gineham dress, Janet presented
quite q pretty picture to William
Thomas Toy, Us he observed her from
the cornfield some yards away. But
Thomas was man who did not con-
slider a wish long ere he strived to full
til 1T, and was soon at her side. She
looked up with a. surprised air when
she heard his; Good morning" and
said, ooh! it is you, is it," then laps
sd again into her thoughtful mood.
He watched her while in silence, be-
ing too we'll accustomed to Janet's
way to disturb her without reason;
but finally he mustered up courage to
make a remark
"Janie, what makes you so thought
tul this morning."
'"Tom," she answered after a pause,
II want you to help me. lam so con-
fused this morning that can hardly
see my way to do what l am deter
mined to do. lam going away" The
young man gave a start. ''Thls place
is positively unbearable longer Some
folks may be content to drag out their
lives in such q place as this, but am
going where 1 can be and do some
thing. 1t does seem to me such pos
tive nonsence for people to be willing
to live along III q hand-to.mouth sort
OF way up here among these hills, and
never do anything of note in the world
except what every mortal does to
preserve life, namely, eat. drink and
sleep. 1t is like being buried alive!"
Having delivered herself of this I'M
maidenly speech, Tom Sat waiting for
more. but more didn't come. At last
he ventured to say
"Janie, am sorry you are so tired
Of ali of us; but if you want to 60
over yonder hills and do something
honest and honorable in the world,
you'll 20, and know better than to
say one word of intolerance"
Eyes, Thomas Troy, that is the
first right down sensible thing l ever
heard you say" she answered with
half q smile. "Of course you know
better than to hinder me, ifyou could.
will remember you for your kind in
tentions. am not SO tired of you,
Thomas; nor any OF the rest of the
folks. | don't want to 90 out of your
lives altogether; but it is these lonely.
rocky hills. and this birdcage life that
tires me. just think, Tom, if 1 shout d
stay here all the days of my life, what
a record l would have, and when l
die how it would sound to read on my
grave-stone,-
Here rests the body OF Janet Gray;
Where she's gone, she's gone to stay.
By the.way, Tom, what kind OF a
poetess do you think I'd make?''
"Janie," said Tom, "your ambiti ons
are all right. As for poetry, never
try that, whatever you do. 1t isn't
every poor rhymer that wins fame,
nor every aspirant attains glory. 1t
is time and chance with everybody.
The race is not always to the swift,
nor the battle to the strong"
Look here, Mr.. William Thomas
Toy, l am we'll convinced you'd dis.
courage me if you could; but all the
Scripture you can quote and all the
arguments you can use won't better
your cause one iota. do not intend
to make rhyming q profession. But
say, Thomas, don't you think l am
rather a fair scribe?"
"Why, jamie" said Tom, who would
deny that fact? wish to goodness
could write as fair hand; but these
clumsy laborers' hands of mine were
never meant to hold a pen daintily
But, jamie, what prompted you to
ask me such q question? Give us
something more closely related to the
subject. How is it you wish me tc
help you? lam ready to do all lean. >
'That I'll tell you. OF course III
break this news to Lizzie first; but
however much l try to soften the as.
founding revelation, no doubt it will